Update Archive/49/2
The attack had been sudden if not unexpected, the rogue wizards of the Kirin Mora, a group of which Eralas had only recently learned, had singlehandedly shattered the last remaining prospects of peace and desecrated the long standing traditions of the fenrisian council chamber, from where he had only barley escaped with his life. Blood and destruction now dotted the ancient floors of the keep, the cries of dying guards echoing throughout the hallways as the unarmed Eralas sought for a means with which to defend himself against the ever escalating violence. What was the meaning of this outrage? Eralas thought for himself, servants of the light betraying the oaths of the ancestors and causing bloodshed in a sacred place of sanctuary, a place where the lords of the land had long meet as equals to discuss the challenges of the ages and the means to overcome them. There were no words in the tongues of either common or ancient arathian with which he could properly condemn the blasphemous actions of those self-righteous wizards. The sounds of clashing blades and vile evocations grew louder as he approached the entry hall, his eyes searching still for a weapon to turn against the assailants who would doubtlessly be waiting on the far side of the hallway. Eralas walked silently along the wall as he came closer to the entry hall, and as the gate to the courtyard appeared before him, a lonely and isolated spark of hope was finally kindled within the confines of his heart. But the prospect of hope was abruptly destroyed when Eralas entered the entry hall, where the lifeless bodies of his noble elite guard appeared before him, each piled on top of the other in the far left corner of the entry hall. For a moment he found himself unable to control the emotions unleashed by the shock of their unexpected deaths and for a time the lone king wept silently over the loss of his former countrymen, some of which had served him well since before his coronation, so many years ago. Eralas grew silent as the sound of footsteps appeared behind him and judging from their rhythm, there were either two or three possible assailants coming his way. Knowing that they would soon be upon him he hastily wiped his eyes, whispered a short prayer to the light in honour of his fallen comrades, and moved towards the courtyard gate. But just as he was about to open the gate and leave the keep behind him, a familiar voice, though twisted by coughs agony, called his name from the far side of the room. One member of the elite guard had somehow survived the slaughter and was now crawling his way towards his King, carrying with him the royal sword of Trol'kalar. Eralas, though shocked and surprised, rushed to his aid immediately and together, the sound of footsteps growing louder, they left the keep and entered the courtyard. Eralas, carrying the wounded guardsmen on his horse, then made his way towards Stromgarde, hoping to inform his brother of the events that had transpired at Fenris Keep and that Stromgarde would play no role in the now escalating tensions of the successor states, if the attack on the keep was to serve as a sign of things to come, than he had seen quite enough, the legions of strom would stay their ground. As they left the keep of Fenris isle behind them, entering the ferry that would bring them to the other side of the lake, the wounded guardsmen whispered in his sleep the name of a person of which Eralas was not familiar. Adaen Melrache, was the name, Adaen Melrache Category:Updates Category:By Spooky